I've got a fetish

Didi and I went to Borders so I could buy a new planner and browse some lit mags. Unfortunately, the suburbs don't carry Another Chicago Magazine or Other Voices anymore.  I ended up buying a travel Scrabble set, an orange planner, and an expired calendar of woodblocks for the images.

While brother went to look at book lights I went to pay for my things. Cashier was a dorky-looking guy with the nametag entitled "JEREMY."

"JEREMY": Hi how are you?
Me: Good.  You?
"JEREMY": If I could say what I'm feeling I could be fired!
Me: Haha. Ok.
"JEREMY": (scans my face) So...are you Japanese?
Me: No.
"JEREMY": So...do you speak any Japanese?
Me: No.
"JEREMY": Nihongowakarimasen!
Me: I'm sorry, what is my total?
"JEREMY": Nihongo wakarimasen!
Me: ...
"JEREMY": Do you know what that means?
Me: No.
"JEREMY": It means "I don't speak Japanese!" Haha!
Me: I'm paying with a gift card.